The Perish Flower
by JustWrite
Summary: There is said to be a flower which blooms the day someone is going to die. When one suddenly blooms in Mineral Town, the villagers are worried for their loved ones and their lives. Told in Elli's point of view. Complete.
1. Superstitions

_October 28, 1943_

_They say that a particular flower blooms on Mother's Hill the day one is to perish. It is white, and it grows only in infertile soil. Some say this is because it steals the life out of the living; that is why it is called the Flower of Death. _

_Today one bloomed. The town was wary; mothers kept their children inside, shops closed, everyone was tense. Each hoped that themselves or a loved one wouldn't be the one to pass. _

_This was the first time I had ever witnessed the flower. I was gathering herbs on the mountain when I came upon it. It was beautiful; it appeared as if it were glowing, like a lone star in the grey night sky. I picked it to show to my grandmother, who was unable to leave our home any longer. As I was approaching my home, a woman asked to see it, since she collected rare flowers. Soon the town had known of my discovery. Everyone is waiting now._

_But I don't believe in superstitions._

**Chapter 1**

_Three years prior_

I removed the damp cloth from my forehead. A nurse with the common cold, who would have thought? "Well this is no good," I said aloud to myself, dipping the cloth into the cool water again.

I had just recently taken the job at the clinic as the doctor's assistant, and was quite pleased when the villagers began to call me "Nurse Elli". That wasn't _exactly _what I was, for I only assisted the doctor by bringing the supplies he needed when he called for them. Still, the title had a nice ring to it, and soon I even started thinking of myself as an RN. One had to admit, the job was impressive for my age. Leaning on the edge of nineteen, I hadn't even finished with my schooling yet. But I was qualified the doctor said, and he was in need of an assistant.

The pay definitely wasn't bad, either. My grandmother was beginning to tire, and she rarely got out and around anymore. This put the family income in danger. Many of the villagers helped out of course, but unfortunately it was not enough to support the household. So I decided to find a part-time job. I had often visited the clinic, for my younger brother Stu was commonly getting scrapes and cuts, and the doctor was more than happy to help.

However, it did have its downsides. I rarely had time for much else anymore, and my social life definitely wasn't at its peak. Furthermore, I had no time for a boyfriend, nor any conversation with any of the local guys, except for when they came in need of medical attention. Sometimes my only motive for keeping the job was for my love of helping others. And the title wasn't too bad.

I lied back down on the sofa, a handkerchief enclosed in my hand. Doc had given me the day off, and I had taken the opportunity to work on a paper and tend to my dripping nose. Nevertheless I knew when Stu arrived home he would be bursting with energy, and I would be the one to clean up after him. Though, I didn't expect him for a little while, and I took advantage by gradually dozing off to sleep.

I was stirred an hour later when Stu came jolting into the house, screaming and playing with May. "You'll never take me alive, evil infiltrator of justice!" he yelled, jumping onto the end of couch I was occupying and grabbing a pillow as a shield.

May stood in the doorway, cocking her head at the rambunctious boy, who had now grabbed a toy sword and swung it vigorously, admiring his own moves. "This wasn't exactly what I meant when I said we should play _house_," she pointed out.

"Nonsense!" Stu yelled back, still swinging the sword, "I'm protecting us from the thieves!"

"Thieves?" she said, now impatient, "Thieves don't even go into houses with nothing to steal!"

On any other occasion I might have joined in their humorous display, but seeing as I wasn't exactly feeling the greatest, I scolded Stu for getting mud on the couch. "Geez Elli, I was on a roll!" Stu grumbled, jumping off the sofa. I felt bad for ruining the kid's fun, but I did _not _feel like cleaning today.

Once May's grandfather had picked her up and Stu was busy working on homework in his room, I settled down to a hot cup of tea. Breathing in the steam, I tried clearing up my sinuses. No use. I felt bad for leaving the doctor on his own, but I would have to go down in the morning to tell him I needed another day off.


	2. The Aspect of Love

_A little girl is missing. Every villager is out searching for her, except for me. I'm watching the other children, who are silent with worry for their friend. _

_They say she may be the victim of the flower. I think otherwise; it's wrong for an innocent child to die so young. Though I'm beginning to wonder myself if the legend is true._

_My brother will not stop crying. I have tried to calm him with stories, jokes, games; but nothing will help. _

_I hope they find May soon._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 2**

Sure, I could understand physics. I knew the ins and outs of medicine and healing; even mathematics came easy to me. But the one thing I couldn't understand was love— and why it wanted nothing to do with me.

Of course I had no time for a relationship at the time being, but it seemed that even when I _did _have the time I was still alone. I'll admit that I had always been fond of Doctor Tim, but I knew my feelings would never be returned. It was like a school girl's crush on her teacher.

Things became even more complicated when Jack had come. He took over his grandfather's farm after he had died, and I instantly took a liking to him. There was just something about the smile reflected in his eyes that proved to me he was an amiable person. And he was. For the first two seasons he would bring me flowers everyday. He would even search for me on the days the clinic was closed. Pretty soon I was head over heels for him; I was sure that he was the one I would spend the rest of my life with.

But I was wrong. One day I was shopping when I overheard a conversation between Karen and her father. She was asking his permission to marry.

"It was given to me yesterday," she had said, "the blue feather." I was happy for Karen, and I loved weddings. Until she mentioned who had given it to her. "I love Jack, Dad," she continued. "And he loves me."

And that was the end of that. Of course I had spent hours crying myself to sleep, because I was positive that he had loved _me_, but apparently not. I began to wonder if it were my fault, if I had missed my chance by not telling him how I felt. After a while, however, I began to forget about my feelings for him and was glad that he was happy.

But I still wasn't. Not in that area of my life anyway. To guys I was an intellectual, a workaholic, and a tad antisocial. I doubted I was as smart as Mary, but she was still shy and cute and had found a guy, the blacksmith Gray, who was the same. The bubbly, flirty Popuri had also settled down with her husband Kai. Ann was engaged to the wise and down-to-earth Cliff. And now Karen was to be married to Jack. As for me, there seemed no hope. I was destined to watch children and help others for the remainder of my life.

I tried not to think about it. I would go on helping the doctor and the villagers as long as I could, and when my grandmother came to die I would raise Stu until he was old enough to take care of himself. It seemed my life would forever be dull, but then, who knew what was around the corner?

The day had gone slowly at the clinic. A couple people had popped in and out to purchase some Bodijizer, which didn't really require much of my help. I sat at the reception desk reading a book and occasionally stealing glances at the doctor sitting across the room. He was writing reports, all of which was beyond me, and quietly humming to himself.

When I thought about it, he wasn't _that _much older than myself. Four years had seemed a lot when I was younger, but now it didn't seem to make much difference. The difference was in maturity and intellect. Sure, I was mature too, but I had a childlike energy that dominated my personality the majority of the time. I wasn't all that naive, for I often helped in delivering babies, but I found my jokes and small pranks didn't go over too well with the doctor.

Plus, the wide extent of his knowledge dumbfounded me. He was a doctor afterall, and I was a doctor's _assistant_. He had left town a few years back to study at a private medicinal college. I was surprised he had returned to the little town, but I was glad that he had.

"Hey Elli," he said, shaking me from my daydreams, "could you come here for a sec?" I got up and walked over to where he had been working. "Sit there," he told me, pointing to the bed upon which patients were observed. As he stood up from his papers I couldn't help but notice the smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"What is it, Doctor?" I asked curiously.

"Well," he said, genuinely smiling now, "sometimes the nurse needs a checkup too." This statement caused me to grin and blush like a schoolgirl. The fact that he had called me "nurse" caused my stomach to flutter and my mind to reel with thoughts. Did he consider me mature afterall? Did he think I was worthy of such a title?

I couldn't help but smile as he told me to open my mouth and say "Ahh".

* * *

_AN: A couple notes here, in case you are confused. The italic part at the beginning of each chapter is always in the **future**. Everything else makes the backstory leading up to that day. Hope it isn't too confusing! -JW_


	3. Harvest Moon

_There is still no news concerning the whereabouts of May. The other children have finally settled down to sleep, so I've decided to go out and look for her as well, for I hate feeling helpless. _

_The sun has already begun its decline. I can't help starting to worry now. Could the legend be true? No, it is only a silly superstition._

_Or so I hope._

_

* * *

_**Chapter 3**

"Grandma, you should really lie down," I said as I took the elderly woman's hand and led her slowly to her bed.

"Elli dear, I'm fine," she insisted, "really." I shook my head and continued leading her toward her bedroom. She was obviously worn out; she had spent the day delivering apple pies to the villagers in town.

"No, you're nodding off even as you speak. Just take it easy, I can take care of Stu tonight." She didn't reply, but merely nodded as she settled gingerly down onto the mattress. I whispered good night and shut the door.

I had always admired my grandmother. She was approaching eighty and was still active within the town. She had raised Stu and I after our parents had died, and never showed any sign of impatience, even with my constant worrying and Stu's boisterous energy. I wished I could someday be as strong as her.

On another note, my relationship with Doctor Tim was flourishing. It had been almost two seasons since he admitted his feelings for me, and I of course told him the same. The news around town was that he was going to propose the night of the Moon Viewing festival, which he had already asked me to. I was anxious, as I had right to be, but I was a tad disappointed that it wouldn't be much of a surprise. Manna was to blame for this, she seemed to know all the most recent gossip, and had somehow came across this piece of information, not hesistating before passing it on to me.

I smiled as I imagined myself in a beautiful white dress. I had wished for my own family my whole life; to have kids of my own. It wouldn't be perfect I knew, but the benefit would far exceed any trouble we'd endure. I wholly and truly could not wait.

As for the other couples in town, they all had at least had one child already, with the exception of Ann, who was currently pregnant. Jack and Karen's son was cute and energetic, and as much as I loved spending time with the infant, he still reminded me of my past feelings. The feelings I had earnestly tried to get rid of, but dimly remained. _No, I love Tim_, I scoldingly reminded myself.

The night of the Moon Viewing festival was romantic and perfect, just as I had expected it to be. We sat on the top of Mother's Hill, hand in hand, watching the bright, full moon rise and slowly take control over the night sky. Tim proposed to me as the moon's orange light shone down on us, and I wasted no time in saying yes. I couldn't wait to tell the news to my grandmother.

And I knew I was the happiest resident of Mineral Town that day.


	4. Strength of a Child

_After hours of searching, May is yet to be found. We have, however, came across a ribbon she wore in her hair up on Mother's Hill. If that is a good sign or not, we're unsure. _

_It's late now, but not yet midnight. I'm tense; I have to keep reminding myself the legend is nothing but a tale told at night to scare little children into going to bed. That's all it is. Or so I hope._

_My heart goes out to Barley. He feels it is his fault for losing his only grandchild, his only companion. I took some soup to the weak and feverishly worried old man, reassuring him by telling him May would be home soon. But that was two and a half hours ago. _

_May, where are you?_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 4**

I told myself to stay reasonable, to keep thinking. _You've done this a hundred times_, I reassured myself. But this time it wasn't the same.

"Hand me the gloves, Elle," Tim commanded, but I hesitated. "Elli, now!" he screamed. I handed them to him, still not completely with it. He snapped them on, and gingerly pressed a cloth against the forehead of the small, weak figure before us.

Doc worked quickly yet flawlessly. Another thing I loved about him. Under the circumstances, I was hardly able to keep my concentration, not to mention a steady hand. My fingers fumbled with the surgical instruments as I grabbed and handed them to the doctor as he called for them.

It had always been hard enough for me to watch when someone was hurting, someone was struggling. Even if I didn't know them, I could always feel their pain. I just couldn't help it. But now it seemed ten times worse. I was feeling the hurt of someone I loved, someone I protected. My little brother.

"He'll be all right," Tim kept reassuring me. "Please, Elli, you need to act as if this were a normal patient. You need to keep calm." But how could I? Stu was in pain, suffering from a burst appendix. I was confident the doctor knew how to manage and had done so several times before, yet I couldn't keep myself from worrying. It only seemed moments ago I was tucking him in for bed.

Screams had flooded throughout the house, waking my grandmother and I, along with half of the villagers. I had rushed into his room, fully alert despite the state of deep sleep I was in seconds earlier. "Stu, what is it? What's wrong?" I asked him, terrified. The child kept screaming, holding his stomach. "Oh, no.." I mumbled, realizing exactly what had happened. I grabbed my coat and wrapped it around the trembling child, picking him up to rush him toward the clinic. Even though the freezing chill of winter had overtaken the village, I didn't feel nor take notice of it as I ran barefoot down the road. Fortunately the doctor had been alerted, and met us at the operating table. I set the child down gingerly, tears already catching in my eyes.

I had never seen Tim quite as serious. He had always been a serious man— that was just his nature— but tonight he was focused, not letting the slightest hint of worry escape. I knew he had to be, however, for he loved Stu almost as much as myself. But he kept on working as if the boy was an ordinary patient, a stranger.

As soon as he had finished, I heard him sigh in relief. I hugged him, tears trickling from my eyes, knowing that the boy would be perfectly fine. He would have to stay in the clinic to recover for a few days of course, but the hard part was over. For me, anyway.

I looked at the now peacefully sleeping child before me. He had several stitches running along his stomach, and I knew I'd have to keep reminding him to stop picking at them in a few days. But it'd all be okay. I ventured over to the doctor, who was now washing his hands, and thanked him again. "I don't know what I'd do without you," I told him. He smiled, but didn't look up from the running water before him.

"It's okay, Elli. I would have acted the same if it were my brother who was lying before me. You did fine," he said, drying his hands and then placing them on my shoulders. I smiled. I knew come spring I would be married to the man before me, and I was now more ready than ever. He had proved to me that he could act calmly and keep his head in any situation. And with that I felt an enormous sense of security.

Before I knew it, tears were rolling down my cheeks again, and he put up a hand to brush them off. "Don't worry," he said, kissing me softly on the forehead, "everything's going to be fine." And I knew he was right.

Ten minutes later I grabbed my coat and hurried back toward my grandmother's house. I now felt the biting cold of the night, and wished to return to the warm comfort of my bed as soon as I could. I walked into the house to meet Grandma Ellen at the kitchen table, absently stirring a cup of tea. At the sound of the door closing, she looked up, lines of worry across her already creased features. I smiled and nodded, telling her everything would be all right. I immediately saw the sense of relief cross her face as she heard this. After sitting down to tell her the specifics, I helped her into bed, then sought my own.

I looked at the clock— 3:30 a.m. Tomorrow would be a long day, I knew, as I would have to explain the night's events to each of the residents of Mineral Town. I still felt a sadness and anguish for Stu, of course, but I was happy that it had passed swiftly.

My little brother was strong, and he would be all right.


	5. Together at Last

_I am desperate, now. I have been told to stay home, to keep watch over the sleeping children here. But I cannot keep my mind from wandering. _

_I can only hope that May has not met some terrible fate. I cringe every time I think of her in pain. I continually pray that she is in none. _

_I am alone with my thoughts now. Why do I feel so guilty?_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 5**

It was just as I had pictured it, what I had dreamt about for the last two seasons, or perhaps my entire life. I stood before a mirror looking at the young woman in the white dress before me. Silk sleeves rested just below my shoulders, lace running along the edges to meet a white rose in the middle. The smooth fabric hugged my stomach and the top of my hips, then cascaded down in several layers, finally extending into a long, flowing train.

As I stood daydreaming, Ann, my maid of honor, entered hastily into the room, telling me it was just about time for the wedding to start. "Oh, Elli!" she said, smiling. "You look absolutely gorgeous." She walked over to where my veil was sitting, and taking it, studied it for a moment. "Like a newly blossomed white flower..." she said, almost inaudibly. Then she placed it gently on top of my head, bringing it to rest over my face. "I'm happy for you, Elle. You and Tim will make a great team." I smiled at her.

"Thanks, Ann." And with that, she left the room. I was anxious now, still a bit unsure, but that feeling was quickly fading. I thought about how I'd finally be together with Tim, how I would soon see the faces of my children. It was a pleasing thought.

The music began playing. Taking one last glance in the mirror, I walked toward the entrance of the church, and saw the aisle in front of me. Smiling, but sighing a bit out of nervousness, I took my first few steps toward my future husband. Stu, the ring bearer, and May, the flower girl, walked just ahead of me, loving the attention they were receiving. I could see the villagers standing along the pews, all warmly smiling and watching me.

Then I saw Ellen, at the end of the aisle, standing with the support of Doug and Jack. Tears brimmed her eyes as she watched me journey down the path, and I couldn't help but catch one in the corner of mine as well. I knew she had looked forward to this for a long time, and she had been determined to see me as a bride in her lifetime. And that day had finally come for her. As I approached her, she stepped out slowly to where I was at, and took me by the arm.

"I love you, Elli. I could not be more happy for you than I am now," she said, tears flowing softly down her weathered cheeks. I hugged her, tears starting to trail down mine as well.

"I love you too, grandma. Thank you..." I whispered to her. After a few moments she began to make her way back to the pew, and I walked up the steps with Tim.

The service wasn't long, but it seemed to freeze in time for me. I couldn't help but stare into the eyes of Tim while Pastor Carter spoke. I heard the children behind me, especially Stu, start to get antsy. He was relieved when we had taken the rings and said our "I do"s. Finally, we kissed, and walked happily together back down the aisle.

I was finally married to the man of my dreams.


	6. A Sickly Omen

**Chapter 6**

_October 28, 1943_

I love the fall. Something about it has always captivated me; perhaps it's the vibrant colors of the leaves which newly adorn the ground, or the wide assortment of wild herbs and mushrooms that can be found on Mother's Hill. Often I voyage there to collect herbs for the clinic while stopping to fill my stomach with fresh grapes and mushrooms.

And today seemed a perfect day for doing so. Tim knew that despite my pregnancy, which we had joyfully discovered in the late summer, I would not sit idly about the house cooking and cleaning redundantly. And I didn't. I was too strong-willed for that.

So, grabbing a basket and a light jacket, I ventured to Mother's Hill. A gentle breeze tickled my face as I walked down the path toward the mountain— another feeling I savored during the fall. Mineral Town really was a nice place to be when the weather was fair, yet even the thick blankets of snow produced a joyful feeling sometimes. All in all, the small town was home to me, and I wouldn't choose to live anywhere else. It was also ideal for raising a family, which would soon be the case for me and Tim.

As I reached the hill I breathed in deeply. The air was always the best here— especially at the summit. I decided I would climb there today, after all I had the leisure time— it was Wednesday and the clinic was closed. I spotted a patch of wild mushrooms and made my way to them. Not many people in Mineral Town enjoyed mushrooms, or at least the way I did, which was straight from the ground. I picked a medium-sized one, plucked off the roots, and brushed a little dirt from it. Then I lightheartedly popped it into my mouth, enjoying the fresh, crisp taste.

After a few more of the mushrooms, I went up further to search for some herbs. Since herbs didn't grow as quickly as mushrooms, I had to travel farther up to get some, where they were mostly left unpicked. Finding a few, I placed them into the basket. The clinic wasn't lacking of them, for I had picked some a couple days before, so I didn't need much. Satisfied after gathering a couple more, I decided to start the climb to the summit. It was still morning, and the air would be its purest now.

I took my time, partially to savor the view, but mostly considering the baby. Tim opposed my going anywhere that required a lot of energy, but I assured him that I was always full of energy and besides— movement was healthy. Still, I couldn't overwork myself, I did know my boundaries.

The view from the summit was gorgeous. The vast forests and mountains stretched as far as the wandering eye could see, and the sunrise and sunset were truly miraculous sights to behold. I often longed to build my home there, but I knew it would be a long walk to the village every day. Still, I never wanted to leave the peaceful atmosphere, and had to force myself to climb back down with a heavy heart.

But something was different as I reached it today. It wasn't the peaceful sort of feeling that I usually got, but a sort of desolate, lonely air. I took in a breath of air and thought no more of it. It was still pleasing to see the colorful scenery around me.

A mysterious object caught the corner of my eye. It deemed me as strange, for there was usually nothing this far up when I came, yet when I realized what the object was I was captivated. A beautiful white flower sat peacefully by itself, reflecting the morning rays of sun. As I drew closer to it I noticed it still had little beads of dew hanging delicately from its petals. "Amazing..." I whispered, kneeling down to where it gently swayed in the breeze. It truly was the most beautiful flower I had ever seen, and after years in Mineral Town, I had seen several, to say the least.

Then I thought of my grandmother, alone in her home near the library. _She'll love it..._ I thought. She had always talked of a flower with pure white petals which bloomed in winter, and well, it was close enough to winter. _It must be the one grandma talked about, _I realized. So, I gingerly picked the flower and held it to my chest, afraid of smashing it in my basket.

I headed down right away. The excitement of finding the legendary flower Grandma Ellen had always spoke of sent my spirits soaring. I couldn't wait to see the look of happiness on her face after finally beholding the flower she had so long searched for.

I picked up my pace after I made it down the hill; I wanted to make sure the dew still clung to the flower's soft petals when I gave it to my grandmother. Yet, when I passed by the Poultry Farm I saw Lillia, Popuri's mother, out in the yard. This was uncommon for her, for she had a disease which kept her from moving about much, and she usually sat inside selling feed. It would be rude of me to ignore her, and I knew she loved flowers, so I decided to give her a preview.

"Elli, dear," she said with a warm smile as I approached. "How are you and Tim?"

"Wonderful, thank you." I returned her smile. She noticed the flower I was holding and her eyes opened wide.

"Oh, my! Elli, can I see it?" she asked, motioning toward it. I nodded, and carefully handed her the white beauty. "Elli, where did you find this?" she asked, beginning to look a bit worried. I was puzzled at this. I had expected a positive reaction.

"On the summit, just a few minutes ago... is there something wrong, Lillia?" I asked.

"Oh dear..." she muttered, lines forming along her forehead. "Elli, run, go get the mayor... quickly dear!" I was still a bit confused, but did as she told me. Mayor Thomas came as soon as I had mentioned Lillia wished to see him. He was protective of her, since her husband had left a while back to search for a cure for her illness.

I watched them for a while in discussion. Was the flower poisonous? If so, why were they touching it? I wanted to know why it had Lillia so worried. I wanted to know how a flower could possibly be bad.

And I soon found out. "It's a myth long told in this village," she explained, "when a flower of white blooms on Mother's Hill, one of the villagers is to perish. We never taught it because before we had never encountered one— I mean, of course we have seen villagers die here, but we have never seen the flower." Tears filled my eyes.

"But... it's not possible... it's a myth, a story..." I mumbled. "Nothing more..." Lillia put an arm around me, comforting me.

"I personally don't believe in it either, Elli dear. I'm only repeating what I have heard." But I saw traces of worry in her eyes. She couldn't help thinking one would die today. She believed in the silly tale.

She handed me the flower silently, and I made my way to the clinic. Mayor Thomas had already alerted every villager in the town of my discovery, and I saw them rushing into their homes as we crossed paths. Why did they all believe it, too? It was just a story... wasn't it? But why hadn't I heard of it before this day? It couldn't be true. I wouldn't let it be true, I decided.

I made my way to the clinic, where Tim and I lived with Stu. I hurried indoors and found the doctor explaining to the boy why he couldn't play outside any longer. My heart throbbed at the sight of it. "No... not you too..." I whispered. He looked up at me, but said nothing. How could my own husband believe it? I thought he had been too smart, too rational for this sort of thing. I couldn't help the tears that flowed down my burning cheeks. I looked at the pallid flower still in my hands and threw it to the ground. It meant _nothing_. It was a flower, an inanimate object. Not an omen.

I walked upstairs silently to my room, Doc and Stu watching me with concerned looks the entire length. I made no eye contact, I was ashamed. I couldn't believe they were caught in this mess as well.

I sat on my bed, staring at the wall opposite me. I had caused an uproar, the town was a nervous wreck— all because of me. _They're all silly, fretting people_, I thought to myself furiously, _it couldn't possibly be true... they believe in a tale, a superstition, nothing more! _I felt like slapping them all to their senses.

I heard the door click open. Tim entered, his brow furrowed in a state of thought. A look I had often seen with him. My eyes searched his face for signs of disbelief, something that would encourage me that the story was farce.

"Elli," he started, hoarsely, "May is missing." The words hit me like a load of bricks. I couldn't register it at first, for a minute almost. I sat there, looking at the floor, my mind reeling.

_No_, I repeated to myself over and over, _it's not true..._

But it was true. He came and laid a hand on my shoulder. "I'm going out to search for the girl. Take care of Stu. Some of the villagers will be dropping off their little ones as well in order to join the search party. I hope to be back soon." The words seemed surreal to me. I nodded, tears streaming.

He exited, and Stu scooted in. His eyes were red and swollen. He stood at the door, silent, until I beckoned for him to come over to me. He ran, his eyes full of tears as well, and settled into my arms. I hugged the boy, sobbing. _How could this be happening?_

* * *

Hours passed, and there was still no news of May. The sun would set soon, and I couldn't help worrying now. Yet, there was still a sense of doubt in my mind. I wouldn't believe it. A child, she was only a _child_. And it was wrong for a child to die.

Stu lay on my bed slumbering, having cried himself to sleep. My heart ached for my little brother, May had been his best friend even at an early age. The other children had arrived earlier and now sat at the table, stirring their bowls of stew, chatting cheerfully in broken sentences. They were far too young to understand what was going on, they merely saw this as an opportunity to play with the other children of the town.

I eventually settled the last child, Jack and Karen's son, into bed. It was a little early for them, and they opposed going to sleep when they were having so much fun. Yet, with full stomachs and the warm room at hand, they were soon dozing soundly next to Stu.

I sat watching them for a while, but I couldn't stand my idleness. I decided I would leave, only for a short time, to search for May as well. I wanted to prove the timid thoughts in my mind as well as the wary villagers wrong. I wanted desperately to find May.

I locked the door to the room, grabbed my cloak, and headed out. The sun had just begun to sink below the horizon, and streaks of darkness ran across the evening sky. I felt a chilling wind hit my face, and I no longer felt a sense of joy that it was fall. I decided to go to Mother's Hill again, taking hope in the fact it was one of May's favorite places.

An hour went by. I had met up with Tim and Rick, and together we searched along the lake and in every hole, every cavern, every tree. So far it had produced nothing.

"You should get back," Tim said as he turned to me, "the children are alone still, even if they are sleeping." I knew he was right, I feared one had woken up and noticed my absence. Still, I couldn't help wishing to keep on searching for the girl, I wanted to make sure she was okay. Just then Rick let out a yell.

"Tim, Elli, come here, quickly!" Immediately becoming anxious, Tim and I ran to where he stood above the lake. He held a red ribbon in his hand, studying it. We crowded around him, looking at his discovery. It had belonged to May. I had seen it tied in her braids day after day, she had loved those ribbons as she did her dolls. Tears filled my eyes again. I didn't know what this meant; if it were a good sign or not.

"We're on the right trail, whatever it may be," Tim said. He turned toward me. "Elli, I think you should head back now." I protested, I wanted to keep on searching, feeling we were close to discovering the truth. But he reminded me again of the abandoned children, and I soon started back down the hill.

I arrived back at the clinic to find all the children still soundly asleep, some of them snoring softly. I smiled weakly, glad for the precious little ones. Stu stirred in his sleep, but there were no lines of anguish on his face. I went into the kitchen, and warmed up the remaining stew from earlier. I would bring the remainder of the thick soup to Barley, who I knew would be taking this the worst of us all.

When it was warmed and covered I stepped outside again, making my way to his farm. As I entered it, I noticed the elderly man sitting sullenly at a table, absently stirring a cup of tea. He looked up as I entered, and I noticed the large bags under his already wrinkled eyes.

"Here," I said gently, setting the warm stew I had brought on his kitchen counter, "I brought you this." He nodded slightly in gratitude, and I went to sit opposite him. We sat in silence for a length of time, until I made an attempt to comfort him. "She'll be home soon," I said. I hoped. He grunted, seeming to try to talk, but his words didn't come out. I went on. "Please, don't fret. Don't believe this talk of the flower and all, Barley. She is a child. She will be found soon." I noticed him swallow hard.

"A child..." he croaked, "a child is still susceptible to death, just as the rest of us." He looked up at me, tears in the corners of his eyes. "I've seen it before. I've seen that awful weed. It's no flower, for there is no sense of beauty to it." His words were slow and raspy. He choked a bit before going on. "How can there be beauty in death? Yes, I've seen it before. I'll never forget that day. The day my Joanna laid to rest..." I was shocked at his words. I took them in carefully.

"But, I always thought..." I began to protest, but he interrupted me, speaking quickly and harshly now.

"Yes, you had always thought she had left the village. That's what we told everyone. That she had left her one and only child to move to the city. It was a lie, a dirty lie, and we were ashamed. Why? Why were we ashamed of this dirty omen? Because we hadn't believed it. We had gone as if nothing were to happen. Sure, we had heard the tales. But we weren't afraid. My daughter was killed that day, her head smashed in from the rocks of Mother's Hill. She had fallen, and lay there for several hours, because none of us believed in the tale and took the initiative to search for her. She was twenty-three years old." The old man broke down. "And now, now..." he managed, "it's because of me that my granddaughter is missing. It is because I was careless."

I shook my head, in disbelief, staring at the table. Drops from my eyes fell onto the table. I was ashamed.

Silently, I got up and placed a hand on the old man's trembling shoulder. But I could not find myself to speak. I took my cloak up again, and exited. The way back to the clinic was a blur. I sobbed, running into the night air. I didn't want to believe the tale I had just been told, I didn't want to believe any of it. Yet I found myself worried sick, my stomach churning. May's mother had been taken by the flower. _It could have been coincidence_, I thought blindly, _it doesn't have to be true_...

I returned to the clinic, finding the daughter of Kai and Popuri standing at the door, crying. Though when she saw the tears in my own eyes she squeezed my legs, and I picked her up gently, hugging her tightly. I looked at the time. Half past ten. I quietly gave the child a glass of warm milk, and helped her back into bed. Then I sat in the corner, my mind rushing over the day's events.

It was so surreal, I couldn't believe that only that morning I had gone out happily, munching on mushrooms. I looked at my basket in the corner, sitting as if it didn't have a care in the world. I despised it. But moreso, I spited myself. I had come across the dreadful flower, I had brought it into the town, and now a child was missing. What if I had never have come across it? Would May be sleeping safely at home? I cursed myself, over and over. The shrieks in my mind became external sobs, and I left the room in order to not disturb the children. I laid on the bed on which patients laid when they were ill, when they were incapable of movement. I laid staring at the ceiling for a long time.

Eventually I heard the door of the clinic being unlocked. I sat up eagerly, and I noticed Tim enter. I could not see his face, for his back was to me as he closed the door softly, though I desperately longed for him to turn around. It seemed forever until he did so, and when he did a weight immediately lifted off my chest. He grinned at me reassuringly. "She is safe," he said, simply. I ran to him, burying my face in his chest, crying. However, I was no longer weeping of guilt or worry, but of sheer relief. As soon as I had calmed a bit, I backed away, still grasping onto his arms. I cast him an inquisitive glance. He explained that Jack had come across her, sitting on the summit of the hill, where I had ventured earlier that day. She had been holding three yellow daisies in her shivering hand, saving them for her grandfather. But she was all right.

I wiped the remaining tears from my eyes, and grabbed a cool cloth to press against my swollen eyelids. One by one, the villagers came to collect their groggy children. As the last one left, I sat at the my desk, thinking. Tim had gone to wash up, and Stu still lay sleeping. I would tell him the good news in the morning.

I didn't feel the least bit satisfied that I had been been proven right. The flower wasn't an omen, maybe, but I still had painful thoughts of the story Barley had told me. I would tell no one, of course, even if he now wished me to. I couldn't repeat the horrible tale. I caught sight of the flower again, not on the floor as I had last saw it, but lying delicately on the window sill near the desk. Tim must have put it there. I went to it, feeling its soft petals once again. How could this simple object cause so much pain and worry in a single day? I couldn't explain it.

Then it came to me that I still hadn't shown my grandmother. That was of little importance to me now, of course, but I now wished to see her, just to talk, to feel comforted by her again. No doubt she was as worried as Barley had been, for she always had a strong heart for children. And she must have known about young Joanna's fate as well. I looked at the clock. Eleven-forty. I knew she would still be up, she would not sleep until she had known the child was safe at home.

I set out to visit her. The night no longer carried the breeze which had lashed at my face earlier— there was now a stillness to it. The crickets had ceased their songs, everything was silent as I traveled down the path to her home. As I approached it, I saw light emitting from the window of the living room, where I had not long ago looked out. I knocked twice quietly, and entered.

The room was warm and quiet. I saw a teapot on the stove. I searched the room for my grandmother, soon finding her rocking slowly in the kitchen. I set my coat down on the couch and made my way to the elderly woman. Her eyes were heavy, she was undoubtedly sleepy, and lines of worry were still etched in her face.

"You have heard the child is safe now?" I asked her as I entered the kitchen. She still rocked gently. She had. "You should sleep now," I told her, "Here grandma, let me help you." She suddenly stopped rocking, and opened her eyes halfway to look up at me. She sat for a moment, running her eyes along every feature on my face.

"Oh, Elli..." she mumbled. "My dear child..." She closed her eyes again weakly.

"Grandma, let me help you up..." I said, but no reply was made. I watched her carefully. A lump formed in the back of my throat.

"Grandma Ellen...?"


	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The villagers are clad in black today. I grip Stu's small, trembling hand as we listen to Carter speak.

_"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil; for You are with me..."_

I bow my head, staring at the ground. The tears have started up again, but they aren't as heavy as before. They are my final tears, the tears of acceptance. I know my grandma lived a peaceful life, and she died happily. I still feel an emptiness in that I will never see her again in this life, but I rejoice in knowing she will be waiting for me.

_"Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare__ a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You have anointed my head with oil; my cup overflows..."_

Tim has his arm around me. I know he can feel this loss too, he was also close with Ellen. Everyone was. Stu stands staring straight ahead of him, his eyes misty, but he is trying to keep from crying. He doesn't want his friends to see.

_"Surely goodness and loving kindness will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."_

Pastor Carter closes his Bible. He nods his head, signaling that we should begin to pass by the coffin, offering our last regards. I walk slowly behind Tim, holding a flower close to my heart.

I watch as the other villagers go by, many whispering quietly as they pass, others nodding respectively. Finally we reach it, too. Tim quotes a verse and touches the box delicately. I move up to it after he walks past. I stand for a moment, the others allow me to take my time. Finally, smiling, I whisper, "Thank you for everything, grandma... I love you." I set the flower atop her coffin. I move on.

I think this is what she would have wanted. A quiet and calm day for her funeral. As the people finish walking by the coffin, we gather near again, and the pastor begins to pray. I cannot help looking at the flower I have placed on her coffin. It is now a bit withered, but it is still undoubtedly beautiful. Its white petals wave gently in the breeze. Perhaps it is considered a horrible omen by some, or a symbol of death. I still do not believe that, but neither do I consider it a coincidence.

Rather, I believe it to be a tribute to life. A reminder of the impact one has had on others— the impact my grandmother had on me. It is a symbol of purity, faith, and endurance. It shows that while life may be only a fleeting moment in time, it is precious, a blessing to others. It is a token of thanks and celebration of life. Her life.

And in that way, death is beautiful.


End file.
